The Girl That Lit the flame
by secretscars
Summary: This is not a love story, this is a story of how a boy fell in love with a girl, and how her lips curled in the corners when she smiled in such a way that dared you to defy her. To prove her wrong because the thing she loved most was a challenge, and he was happy to comply.
1. Chapter 1

_**Epilogue **_

Whiskey tainted morning breath swimming across her dimly lighted room from the too harsh hallway chandelier light was usually how her morning began. The breath from a drunk man's mouth pooling around her nostrils like the smoke from her cigarettes was not foreign to her, in fact, she is almost too acquainted with the experience for a girl her age.

**...**

The world is a filthy place, it's polluted by dumbasses that don't know whether their going or coming. They litter the earth like trash at a dump yard, it's almost impossible to find a spot on this goddamned planet they don't infest themselves. Maggots. All of them are like maggots to him. Squirming uselessly and disease filled taking up precious space where the important people should stand. People that can change the world if they wanted and change it for the better.

Tate, like most mornings, is leaning against the wall just outside the school entrance were the rest his of classmates sit and spew their teenage babble bullshit until the bell rings and beckons them inside. He studies them. Studies them all. People interest him in a way most would deem psychologically unhealthy, but it isn't like any one of them sparks a real flame in him. After a while he finds them all stereotypical, he realizes he can tell what they're going to do and how they react to most things before they even do it. But yet like a habit he can't break, he still stands there each morning waiting for someone to light that flame inside him. He's always waiting for that one person to prove him wrong, to break the teenage stereotype.

It was September 23, 2011 that he finally found the person who would strike the match to a fire that would end up consuming him, burning him alive but he loves the pain in a sadistic type way.

He thinks what got his attention is her hair. Swept under a hat with blonde locks that caught the light in such a way they seem to shine gold. She was glowing, and she eclipsed all around her with her fierce eyes that didn't falter even under the most venomous of stares being shot at her. He knew at once she was different, with her numerous layers of tights, a long sleeved shirt topped with a dress, and pulled together with a hat and cigarette hanging from her mouth. In truth, she looked like a 4 year old that got dressed in the dark and her breathtaking features clashed in comparison with her mix-match apparel. So there she was, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, shining like the sun and storming through the school lot, not giving any notice to the hostility she has bubbling around her, and why should she? What they thought about her was just words, they didn't matter. Smoke tumbling from her pouty red lips is what caught the brunet's attention. Nudging for the two lackeys she was talking to for back up, they storm up to her like a cliché in a chick flick. He scoffs at the unoriginality and unfairness in the attack but doesn't intervene, he wants to see what the blonde will do because for the first time he just doesn't know. He doesn't like the feeling of not being able to efficiently detect what will happen before it does but the search is a rush.

After the accusation of breaking a "student council rule" about smoking the blonde says something inaudible to Tate's ear then drops the cigarette putting it out with the toe of her boot.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" the brunet bitch demands.

Tate shakes his head at the bimbo as she leans down to scoop up the still slightly lit bud and wave it around in the blonds face.

"People sit there, they eat here." She continues with her rant.

Tate found he unintentionally moving closer to the fight, closing in on it. Because of this he heard the blonde say "You don't know me, why are you doing this?" It's funny he was wondering the same thing.

"Eat it." The ringleader says next, cool and easily like it's something she says on a daily basis.

"What? No!" she says in protest, disgusted this girl has the audacity to tell her what to do let alone something so vulgar.

One of the brain dead followers who was previously mute tugs on her elbow slightly ushering _Leah_ to come along calling it quits. Leah. So that's her name. Tate's watched her before too but hasn't cared enough to learn her name. She's a rich coke whore who brags about her addiction and sexual encounters, probably secretly hoping word leaks through to her parents and they feed her some kind of parental attention at all opposed to money.

"NO, NO! I WANNA SEE HER EAT IT!" She declares, arm hooking around her neck and pushing the bud towards her mouth.

That's when the petite teen snaps, clawing at the hand attempting to force feed her, her own cigarette she collects bile in the back of her throat and flings a thick sticky glob of spit into the screeching face of the bitch.

Spinning on her heels and through a whirlwind of her own locks she takes off toward the school, ignoring the multiple threats of revenge but turns around to give her a shit eating grin. Tate doesn't thinks he's laughed this hard in a while, she _spit_ in her _mouth_. She wasn't afraid or shaken, that was a game to her, like a little something to spice up her day.

Tate thought that was the day he found someone he could finally call friend. Little did he know that he not only found the girl that could change the world but bring it to its knees with a bar of her eyelashes. She could dazzle the world, and he found eventually she did.

Continue? And OH MY FUCKING GOD AHS 3 IS PERFECTION AND IT PHYICALLY HURTS .


	2. Chapter 2

ahs is too fucking good and sickly twisted, I love it. I hope you guys like this chapter.

* * *

Tate had watched the still unnamed girl for 5 more days after the fight, waiting for her to prove him right, to be the predictable person he thinks she could still be. But with each passing hour, each passing day she kept giving him evidence to prove him all wrong.

It was under the bleachers being hidden by its shadows to keep away all others and the merciless L.A. heat that he approached her, reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cigarette and enclosed it between his lips and lit the tip. Blowing out a smoke ring, he sank to the ground beside her not saying a word, not even looking at her. It's only when the soft thud of his ass finally slinking down into the dirt that she looks up. Unforgiving eyes stare him down as if he'd just slapped her instead of sat next to her.

"Excuse me." She snaps not in the least bit joking, probably thinking he's some jock come to feign as friend then go back to his pals and talk about her.

He smiles his Cheshire smile, smoke of the cigarette seeping between the slits in his teeth and says "You're excused."

"Wow that was a good one, jeez the last time I heard that one I was in first grade."

He holds out his hand all business like, almost as if he's giving out some form of truce between them. Arching an eyebrow at his hand she lets out a small laugh.

"Look, I'm not trying to find anyone to pal around with and I don't need your peace offering or whatever else it is you're offering up with that hand shake."

"The only thing I'm offering is an introduction. I'm Tate." He's completely serious.

He expects her to get up and walk away, but for the trillionth time that week she catches him off guard again. She places her fingers tightly around his hand, shaking it once with a firm grip, never breaking eye contact, yet never saying her name.

"And you are?" Tate encourages.

She turns to face him, really face him, and gives him the most confident smirk he's ever seen. Hiking her long dress just above her knee caps, slowly crawling toward him on all fours and only stopping when shes about three inches from his face. He expects her to lean up and kiss him craves it even. But she doesn't, just plucks the cigarette from his chapped lips and replaces them with her soft red ones, sitting down beside him and not looking at him anymore.

She sucks like a fiend on the filter and puffs out slow long blue clouds of smoke, watching the atmosphere swallow it whole before taking another puff. He almost forgot there was air because at the moment, it's as though she's stolen all his.

"Violet." She responds while putting out embers on the heel of her shoe, still not looking at him.

"I hope you know you owe me a cigarette and I expect you to pay up." He says.

And then it happens, she smiled that magnetic smile that screams "I know something you don't". Her smile reached her eyes that swam with secret stories he wished to know. He'd listen to each story like it was the last he would ever hear. He would hang on each word letting it slip into his blood like the nicotine in cigarettes he smokes. He would do anything to see that smile all the time, it would be like a high he never came down from. She would be his biggest high.

"I'll find a way to pay you back."

"Well Violet I think this is the start of something very beautiful."


End file.
